


the dark's not taking prisoners

by doodivie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble, Kinda, M/M, Sad, but kinda heartwarming, idek what this is, its kinda sad but it gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 03:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7918297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodivie/pseuds/doodivie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>shallow breaths & black walls among others. <br/>a little drabble about building yourself up again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the dark's not taking prisoners

**Author's Note:**

> this is a mess, im sorry.  
> the thunderstorms outside my room had me feeling some kind of way.

It was like being electrocuted.

And not in the good way, in the way where you're kissing your lover and you feel sparks all over your body.

Each breath was sharp, an edge that would slice Kenma's neck open, leaving him to bleed out.

He would breakout in a sweat at the mere thought of leaving the comfort of the room, yet everyday he tried to push himself further, reaching parts of Kuroo and his apartment that he hadn't seen in months. He hated the way the cold beads sat on his skin, almost taunting him, noting how simply being alive took too much energy from his frail body.

Most days it seemed the best he could do was stare blankly at the wall in front of him, because two steps into the room over became too much. He would stare at the wall for hours, but of course, he had no idea how long it had been. He had long since made Kuroo put multiple layers of curtains over the small window above their bed and move the clock to the kitchen, a room he didn't think he'd ever see again. Knowing just how much time he wasted, he thought, would drive him completely over the edge.

The wall was a plain white, not even thrilling enough to be called eggshell. However, in his mind, the wall was a black hole. No matter how hard he scratched and tore at the fabric of it, it had completely sucked him in long ago.

He had struggled with all the might imaginable in a lifespan, but there was never even a hint of it visible.

Through all of this, whether or not to take the next breath had become a constant decision for him. He distinctly remembered one time, however, as he was sitting up in bed, the lines had become blurred and his breathing shallowed. He remembered Kuroo, who had been leaning against his chest while silently tracing circles on his palm, suddenly jolting up and looking him dead in the eye.

_"Breathe for me, please._   
_I can't do it for the both of us."_

He saw the horror in his eyes. It was something he never wanted to see again. It was worse than the wall. It was worse than the sweat. It was worse than the slicing at the intake of oxygen.

It was worse than experiencing all of it at once.

Since then, the rooms became less distant. He looked at a clock. 6:42 pm. He looked at a calendar. May 23rd. The last time he checked, it was 2:17 am, September 9th.

After a couple days, he reached the kitchen. He even opened the medicine cabinet and took one of his medications, even after choking the first time.

He started to casually walk around the apartment. He would circle the entire perimeter for hours on end until he felt a burning in his calves. He had stopped sweating.

His breathing became more natural. He even had a full conversation with Kuroo about his day at work.

At nights, while Kuroo would read, he would stare at his wall. It was no longer a black void, but rather a gray accent. As the weeks passed, it even reached a light gray, and soon enough, a murky white.

While functioning inside the apartment had become almost normal, Kenma still hadn't left its confinements. He would occasionally slip up on remembering medication. Some days the wall seemed to get a shade darker, but when he would come back to it, it was two tints lighter.

He and Kuroo would lay in bed, facing each other, simply breathing. The breaths were shallow, but it was a comfortable lack of depth.

There was still quite some ways to go.

But for now, this murky white was enough.


End file.
